


Hop and Bede go to Kalos to Tame a God

by megapidgeots



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Gen, Rated T to be safe - just some cussing, Trans Beet | Bede, Trans Dande | Leon, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megapidgeots/pseuds/megapidgeots
Summary: When Opal sends Bede to Kalos to research the origin of Fairy-type Pokemon, he finds himself rooming with Hop, who still harbors a grudge due to how Bede treated him when they were on their journey together.Like it or not, for now, they're stuck together, and in the midst of it, they start to feel something sinister brewing right under their noses.
Relationships: Beet | Bede & Hop
Comments: 23
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this ones kinda silly, but I want them to be friends! this will update every other monday !

Malva sits back in her chair, feeling it give slightly under her weight. Lysandre is loaded, but he can’t afford to get his staff decent chairs. Typical. She props her feet up against the edge of her desk and squints at the diagram on her computer screen.

A large hand grasps the back of her chair, right next to her left ear. Malva doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t even look over her shoulder. Only one person here would approach her so boldly. “Still no change,” she says, crossing her arms, “if it’s going to appear anywhere, it’s here.”

“As I thought,” Lysandre says, and without looking, Malva knows he’s smiling to himself, like he’s just won the lottery. Not that he’d need the extra money. 

“You’re brilliant, sir,” Malva deadpans, and if Lysandre notices the sarcasm oozing from her words, he pays it no mind.

“And the Pokemon league?”

Malva hums. “I’ll take care of that.”

“Excellent. You’re an invaluable asset to our team, Malva.” He says, before turning and leaving the room once again. Once he’s out of earshot, Malva snorts. 

More like the entire backbone of this stupid operation.

Whatever. It will be worth it, in the end.

Just a few more months.

* * *

Bede doesn’t wake up to his alarm. This in and of itself is highly unusual. He rolls over with a soft groan and plucks his phone off the bedside table. When he opens the lock-screen, he finds that it is nine o’clock. Thirty minutes after he usually wakes up. He furrows his brow and sits up in his plush bed. He doesn’t understand how this could possibly happen. He has consistent alarms set for every day of the week, including weekends (when he allows himself to sleep a half hour longer). 

“Opal,” he grumbles. He swings his feet onto the soft mat beside his bed and, not bothering with uniform yet seeing as his mentor is  _ clearly  _ up to something, he trudges downstairs.

As he nears the bottom, he can hear multiple voices. Opal’s he knows straight away- he’s lived with her for five years- since he was fourteen. The other one takes a moment. He steps as lightly as he can to peak around the corner into the tea room, where Opal always entertains her guests. The room is decorated in soft purple hues, with lavender plants lining the walls. A lot of people don’t realize that it’s Opal’s favorite color. Living with her, it’s hard to forget.

Bede instantly freezes and pulls back when he sees who the guest is. Long, silky purple hair flows over broad shoulders and a wide back. He’s pretty sure those liquid gold eyes saw him, too. Leon. He had a lot of mixed feelings about the man, but these days most of them were good. He’d always been an inspiration to Bede as a child- being not only Champion, but also an out-and-proud trans man. Living in foster care, expressing his own gender from a young age had yielded mixed results, depending on the family he was staying with at the time. Having Leon as Champion, however, inspired him to be firm in who he was, even if the people around him doubted him.

Not that he’d ever admit that to the man himself.

He also had somewhat of an admiration crush on him.

Again, not that he’d ever admit it. Leon was ten years older than him and married, anyway. 

“Bede, dear, don’t think I didn’t hear you,” Opal’s voice echoes from the adjacent room. Of course, he should have expected that. He doesn’t really want to meet the former-Champion in his ralts-print pajama bottoms, but he doesn’t seem to have a choice anymore. He rounds the corner and gives a nervous wave. Leon, for his part, doesn’t seem bothered at all. He smiles wide and waves back.

Bede’s gaze flickers down to two large suitcases near Leon’s feet. He frowns. “Is Leon staying in Belladona for a while?” 

The two adults (he supposes he’s an adult now too, but he still finds himself referring to older adults as though he himself is not an adult) share a look, saying nothing for a moment. Bede crosses his arms across his chest and narrows his eyes.

“These,” Leon picks up one of the suitcases by the handle, “are yours.” 

Bede waits for more explanation. Leon looks like he’s about to explain further, but Opal ends up taking the initiative. 

“Bede, you have worked under me for five years now. I think it is time that I take my full retirement. Before I do, I want you to go on a research mission to Kalos. The fairy type was first identified there, and as such, I believe there is much you can learn.” She stands and slowly walks over to pick up the second suitcase. Leon offers a second hand, which she promptly refuses. “You will be gone six months, during which time you will stay with Professor Sycamore in his lab. When you return, you will be the sole gym leader here.”

It’s a lot to take in, and Bede immediately feels overwhelmed by all the questions swirling in his mind. He’s annoyed that Opal hadn’t at least discussed it with him first, and by the confusion on Leon’s face, it’s clear that he assumed that this wasn’t news to Bede. If both the suitcases are for him, though…

“So, you have to stay here to man the gym. So I’m going to a foreign region, alone, to live with a stranger- again,  _ alone _ ?” he knows he’s not a kid anymore, but he also knows that he has a lot of anxiety about living alone- trauma and all that. He and a therapist have worked on it, somewhat, but he can never fully shake that persistent fear of abandonment.

“That’s the best part!” Leon says, and Bede swears his eyes twinkle when he speaks. He smiles wide, completely genuine- Leon’s smiles are  _ always  _ genuine. “Hop’s going too.”

Bede doesn’t mean to say it out loud. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

* * *

Leon rides with them in the Corviknight taxi. Bede imagines that he wants to see his brother off at the airport, since he and Bede will be on the same flight. “You’re even sitting right next to each other!” Leon had announced cheerfully, apparently unaware of his younger brother’s lasting hatred of Bede. 

He elects not to say anything about it- whenever someone crushes Leon’s enthusiasm, it feels like a crime. Instead, he stares out the window, spinning his Hattrene’s pokeball lightly in his hand. He really wants to make this work, for Opal if nothing else. As annoying as she can be, Bede cares for her, and she deserves a peaceful retirement, whatever that may look like for the strange woman. 

“So, Leon,” Opal says about halfway through their journey to Wyndon airport. Bede spares her a quick glance, then looks away again with an eye-roll because he knows by the glint in her eye that she’s about to start shit. She continues, leaning towards the man slightly. He leans back, eyes narrowing.

“When are you and Raihan planning on some little ones?”

Leon splutters, his entire face heating up. Bede snorts, then pointedly looks away when Leon looks at him with betrayal painted across his features. “You sound like my mum,” Leon mumbles after a while. 

“Don’t worry, she does this with everyone over twenty-five,” Bede says, his gaze not leaving the snowy landscape far below, the sheet of white sometimes unbroken for miles. He wonders what the weather is like in Kalos. He hasn’t looked it up. 

“Now hush, Bede,” Opal says, seemingly unbothered by Leon’s reaction to her question, “you know you’re going to miss me.”

Bede smiles, just a little. She, as always, is right.

* * *

Bede knows that an hour and a half by plane isn’t that long. He’s never been on one before, but he’s heard of flights that go for a whole day. Still, he’s sitting next to Hop, so it feels like forever.

There’s something about Hop: Bede doesn’t hate him, not anymore. Maybe he resents him a little, but he doesn’t hate him. During his pokemon journey, he certainly did, but he’s over that now. He’s grown, changed, evolved, as it were.

Hop has grown, changed, so on, but he has most certainly not forgiven. He sits next to Bede now, not speaking, chin resting on the back of one hand as he watches Bede carefully. He’s also obscenly tall. Not quite as tall as Raihan, but Raihan doesn’t  _ glare  _ at him at every opportunity. Bede shifts and opens his phone so that he can pretend to read, just so he won’t have to deal with the glares.

The fact of the matter is that part of him still  _ envies  _ Hop. He’s so loved by so many people. He has a loving and supportive brother, partner, friends. Bede has… well, Bede has Opal. He loves Opal, in his own strange way, but it’s not the same.

He still feels Hop’s gaze burning into the back of his skull. He clicks his phone closed and places it on his thigh. “Do you want something?”

Hop huffs and turns away, “Just so you know, this doesn’t make us friends.”

Bede blinks. He opens his phone again and continues to fake-read. “Well aware, thank you.” 

As he scrolls mindlessly through text, he hears Hop shift occasionally, but he doesn’t actually do anything. Doesn’t look at his phone, doesn’t pick up a book. He just sort of sits there. After a half hour of that, Bede decides that he’s going to attempt to make conversation.

“So,” he says, looking up at Hop, and he has to look up, because Hop is about eight inches taller than him, “how’s uh- how’s Vic?” he’s the current Champion on top of being Hop’s partner, so it seems a safe bet conversation-wise. He must have something nice to say about that, at least. 

Hop pauses, looking over Bede carefully. “He’s fine.” He finally responds, before looking away again.

Bede bites his tongue, attempting to reign in his own frustration. He understands if Hop doesn’t like him, but does he have to be such a damn hardass about it? Against his better judgement, he decides to try again.

“Leon and Raihan’s wedding was lovely,” he offers. He was telling the truth about that, at least. It has been so lovely that he’d snuck off into the back to cry. Opal had found him, crumpled on the ground, overwhelmed with emotion. They were just so damn in  _ love _ ! Raihan had started crying while reciting his vows, and they were so damned sappy and sweet. He honestly had to stop thinking about it, or he was going to tear up again.

“Mmmhm,” is Hop’s answer.

Oh, fuck’s sake.

“If we’re going to be stuck together for six months, perhaps you ought to consider not being such a colossal ass.” Bede grits through clamped teeth.

Hop raises a brow and pushes his spectacles back up his nose. “Sorry, it’s not me. It’s you.”

Bede feels like a wild Primeape. He takes a deep breath and sinks back into his chair, eyes forward. “Prig.”

“Arse.”

“Cunt.”

Hop reaches over and cuffs him over the back of the head. “Hey!” he snaps, grabbing Hop’s wrist. Hop grunts and pulls, hard. Bede is yanked half off his seat, his shoulder colliding with Hop’s. He lets out a loud curse and resists the very real urge to  _ bite  _ Hop. 

“Geddoff me,” Hop growls, pushing him back.

“You started it,” Bede throws back.

“Oh my Arceus, how old are you?”

“Leader Bede, Hop,” a woman’s voice interrupts their little argument. They look up at the same time, finding a haggard-looking woman with dark circles under her eyes. She smiles, but Bede can tell that underneath, she’s about ready to snap. Bede swallows and sits back in his chair.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he mumbles. Hop echoes his words. She sighs, smiles again, and tells them to call her over if they need refreshments.

They pass the rest of the plane ride in silence. 

* * *

The air smells different when Bede exits the plane. Galar doesn’t all smell the same obviously, but Kalos? Kalos smells altogether wrong. He stops for a moment, causing Hop to walk into him. The taller man practically topples over, spinning his arms in an attempt to steady himself. He glowers at Bede. “What was that for?”

Bede flushes. That one, in particular, was probably his fault, not just Hop being an ass. “Kalos- the air smells bad.” 

Hop doesn’t offer a verbal response, instead rolling his eyes before slipping a stack of sticky notes out of her jacket pocket. He walks across the tarmac, scribbling something or other with a ballpoint pen, occasionally looking up, or around. Bede follows his gaze, but he doesn’t see anything of interest. Should he be taking notes, too? Opal’s request had been so vague. Would there be another test when he got home? He resolves to call her at the earliest possible opportunity. 

When they enter the airport building proper, they’re quickly greeted by the scent of perfume a few seconds before the perfume-carrier walks into view. He’s a pale man with curly black hair and a natural smile almost as wide as Leon’s. A few quick internet searches on his way to the airport had told him enough to know this was the Professor Sycamore they were to be living with.

Bede wonders if Opal’s true goal in sending him here is to have him reek of perfume for the remainder of his life, and maybe a while after that. 

Hop is as chipper and charismatic as he usually is around folks who aren’t Bede or his father, who Bede had only seen once, at Leon’s wedding. He felt a solidarity with the man, seeing him chewed out by Hop in a way he thought was reserved only for him (how intimate. Not really). 

“Cheers, Professor Sycamore! M’names Hop, and this here is Gym Leader Bede.”

Bede frowns and raises a brow. Hop’s accent isn’t usually this thick. He immediately prepares two hypotheses. One: Hop is making a joke, or Two: Hop is nervous. As Sycamore replies and Hop goes on to ask about if the drive to pick them up was good, Bede begins to lean towards the latter.

“And Leader Bede,” Sycamore saying his name catches his attention, “I’ve got a few Fairy-types back at the lab. Many of the known fairy-types are available in Galar, but I do believe that you’ll find Falbebe, Klefki, and Carbink to be of interest to you.”

Bede manages a small smile, not quite like Sycamore or Hop’s, but he thinks he might break his face if he tried to smile that wide. “Yes, I’ve done quite a bit of research on Klefki in particular,” it was true. Like Mawile, Klefki was a steel type, meaning it was immune to poison. He’d thought about asking Leon to allow him to bring a Klefki in particular into the region for the purpose of his gym team, since there were some on the Isle of Armor, where he’d yet to visit. Maybe he’d respond affirmatively when Bede was full gym leader.

“Yes, quite the interesting type-combo, is it not?” Sycamore pulls the passenger-side door open and both Hop and Bede move to take it. It’s a tough fight. Hop is stronger, but Bede is smaller. He ducks under Hop’s attempts to push him back, and eventually Bede manages to duck under his arm and fall onto the leather seat. It smells like perfume.

Perfume and victory. 

Sycamore proceeds as if he did not just see two adult men fighting over shotgun and slips into the driver’s seat with a sigh. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll have a guest over for dinner tonight. Double booked myself, you see.” 

Bede smiles and nods. He doesn’t say anything at first, allowing Hop to say something more being merrier. While he prattles on, Bede decides he’ll attempt a joke. “As long as your guest doesn’t mind me ignoring them in favor of a Carbink.”

Sycamore pulls up to a stop-light and takes a moment to look at him with a raised brow. “Surely your research can wait. Lysandre is a very intelligent man. It’s worth speaking to him when you have the opportunity.”

“I-”

“Yeah, Bede, don’t be rude.” Hop hums. Bede reaches back and smacks the top of Hop’s head, earning a startled cry.

“And I do recommend learning to be in the same room with each other,” Sycamore turns back to the road and, in a lower register, adds, “I only have one guest room.”

* * *

The laboratory is massive- much larger than Sonia’s, which Bede has always thought quite nice. For one, it’s three levels, and when they enter, a receptionist calls someone to take their bags to their room. Bede feels weird surrendering his things to anyone he doesn’t know, and he already had to do that once today, but he manages with only a bit of a glare. 

He’s hungry, he realizes, but he also hates the idea of eating in front of people he doesn’t know well. He doesn’t like when people watch him eat, which he knows they probably aren’t, but it stresses him out. He thinks it might be rude to ask to take his food to his room, especially when he already accidentally insulted their guest. So he lets Sycamore lead them into an elevator and up to the third floor. He rambles about Lysandre on the way up, and a shared glance with Hop, which  _ isn’t  _ a glare, for once, confirms what he’s thinking.

This fourty-some-odd year old man is acting like a teenager with a crush.

Bede certainly hopes the man of the hour is worth it. 

The door of the elevator opens and they are escorted into an open-concept room. The floor seems to be real dark wood, with a kitchenette and island on one side and three doors on the other. Sycamore explains that these are the two bedrooms and a bathroom. Bede decides that he won’t think about the prospect of sharing a room with Hop until it is upon him, for his own sanity. 

They slip off their shoes at the entrance, where Sycamore has a fluffy pink mat that says  _ Bienvenue  _ in white cursive lettering. Bede notes that he likes the shade of pink. “Lysandre should be here any minute. I told him five, but he’s always ten minutes early,” Sycamore lets out a fond chuckle and makes his way over to the fridge, where he pulls out a casserole dish and puts it in the already preheated oven.

“Did… did you have the oven on when you were gone?” Hop asks. Bede furrows his brow, ready to correct him.  _ Obviously _ he just had one of the staff preheat the oven for him.

“Yes,” Sycamore says with a shrug, “I figured that it would take about as long to heat up as it took to get you both from the airport.”

Bede wonders if he will die in Kalos. 

Silently, Bede adds that to his list of things  _ not  _ to think about. He settles down on a tall stool at the kitchen island and folds his hands on his lap, back straight. “So what is for dinner, Professor? Not that I am picky,” this is a lie, he is picky. He would still eat whatever was put in front of him. He might just have to sneak a snack later. 

“Lasagna,” Sycamore replies, which is a relief. He can usually handle lasagna. Though, based on what he’s seen of Sycamore so far, he isn’t sure how confident he is in the man’s culinary skill. 

Hop sits nearby, propping open a small notebook in front of him and taking a few quick notes. He keeps his elbows on the table as he writes, and Bede briefly considers asking him if he was raised in a barn, but refrains. He probably was, though. They have barns in Postwick.

The elevator pings a moment later, and from it steps a man with the most absurd hair Bede had ever had the pleasure (displeasure?) of seeing, and he knows Leon. 

He has… Arceus above, Bede doesn’t even know how to begin to describe that hair. It’s orange, like Sonia’s, but more bright, intense. Sonia’s is certainly natural, but Lysandre? He has doubts. It’s also pointed out in all directions, like a strangely-formed star. He has a full beard, too, wild and untrimmed, or maybe it looks that way on purpose. At least he’s dressed sharply, in a dark three-piece suit with a red-striped tie. He takes long strides into the apartment like he’s on a mission, rather than visiting a friend for some lasagna.

Sycamore looks absolutely smitten. He giggles, actually  _ giggles _ , when Lysandre greets him with a pat on the shoulder. He and Hop, once again, make amicable eye contact. At least this Lysandre guy helps with that.

The timer on the oven goes off, and Sycamore fumbles with his oven mitts, nearly burning himself on the hot dish as he pulls out his lasagna, which looks cheesy enough that, if there is something wrong with it, Bede will hopefully not taste it. 

Lysandre sits down across from the two of them and fixes them with a frown, “And who might you be?” he asks. His voice is low, rumbling, almost comically deep. 

“They’re both here from Galar,” Sycamore says as he hands them each a plate, none of which match. The one Bede receives is white with a blue rim that is chipped in two places. Sycamore decides that announcement doesn’t need anything added to it, and instead busies himself with serving the pasta.

“I’m an assistant professor, here for research,” Hop clarifies, grabbing a fork and attempting to slice through the mountain of noodles and cheese with the side of it, “my focus being on Pokemon native to Galar- how they live in a different place.”

“And I’m here researching the origin of Fairy-types. I’m to be the gym leader of Belladona when I return.”

Hop raises a brow, “Weren’t you already?” he asks, not a hint of annoyance in his voice, for once. He actually seems genuinely curious. 

“Yes, but Opal will be retiring, leaving the gym entirely in my control. It’s… well, it’s a bit daunting.”

Lysandre doesn’t touch his food, though he smiles and thanks Sycamore, who blushes and looks away, using his food as an excuse to avoid eye contact. “Both admirable tasks. I have been in the ruins of route ten as of late, following my own research. They are quite old, though the only Fairy-types around there are Snubbul and Sylveon. Perhaps they may contain some answers for you, er-”

“Bede, sir,” he says, straightening his back, “and thank you. Snubbul is not found in Galar, so I believe it will be worth investigating, anyway.”

Lysandre nods, “Good mind. I admire your dedication.”

Hop, shifting in his chair, clears his throat, “History is relevant to me, too. Maybe I’ll check it out as well.”

Bede wrinkles his nose and shoves a ball of cheese into his mouth to avoid calling Hop a childish nickname.  _ Copy-skitty _ . 

He swallows and looks at Lysandre again, “You said you had your own research- what are you investigating, sir?”

Lysandre pauses, then chuckles, his voice low, “Oh, nothing interesting. Just some… geographical rejuvenation project.”

Uh, alright.

Another glance is shared with Hop.

It’s not entirely reasonable. He hasn’t done anything wrong, but Bede has a feeling in his gut, and history has taught him that he should trust those types of feelings most of the time.

Bede decides he doesn’t quite like Lysandre.

* * *

Bede uses the bathroom to get changed for bed, since he isn’t especially keen on changing in the same room with Hop. The taller man wouldn’t be weird about it, but Bede would  _ feel  _ weird about it. So he knocks his elbows on the wall of the narrow shared bathroom and deals with it.

When he enters the room again, Hop is on a call. Leon’s face takes up half the camera, with Raihan taking up the other. The dragon tamer looks ill, his face tinged a sickly gray color, eyes bloodshot. He looks a right mess. 

“I’m  _ distraught  _ I couldn’t see you off today, Hopster,” Raihan rasps. Definitely sick, then. Bede slinks to his side of the room and settles into his bed, trying not to snoop too much.

Leon goes off on a tangent, something about the Wooloo on their family farm, and Hop laughs, and Bede doesn’t understand why. He guesses that it’s something only they get. He swallows thickly.

He wonders what it would be like, having a family who loved and cared for him like Leon did for Hop. He knew the other man had a shaky relationship with the rest of his family, though he still loved them.

Bede had Opal. 

Opal was old, and she showed it more every day, in little ways, in ways she would never admit. She forgets things, all the time. She laughs it off, but Bede knows it bothers her. He notices the tension in her jaw, the way she avoids questions about it. She won’t be around forever, maybe not even another five years. Bede clutches his arm and bites back tears.

He’s so frustrated. He’s so  _ jealous _ .

He wants what Hop has.

Hop ends the call and flicks off the light.

He doesn’t say a word to Bede before curling up under his covers. Bede lets a few silent tears fall and wet his pillow before falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Geosenge town is an interesting place. Looking at the place, he can immediately tell that it’s loaded with history. The ruins that lay directly south of it speak to that, along with the stone monument in the center that sends a confusing chill down his spine whenever he looks at it. 

“Raihan would like it here,” Hop notes. He’s sitting on a mostly flat rock, feet tapping as he sketches an Eevee as it naps half underneath a bush nearby. Kalosian Eevee, like Galarian ones, are hardy. In most regions, Eevee can’t survive in the wild beyond highly monitored gardens. The Kalosian ones in particular seem unbothered by their surroundings. 

“Didn’t he and Leon come to Kalos for their honeymoon? He probably already saw it,” Bede says, watching a Snubbul dig at a batch of earth from a distance, occasionally letting out a low cooing noise in hopes that the dog Pokemon will come to him of its own volition. It doesn’t look up, though, so he takes a few steps closer to it.

He’s mainly focusing on them right now. They aren’t native to Galar, and he finds them really quite interesting. Most people assume it to be a normal type, like Skitty, which even he thought to be a Fairy-type at first. Typing doesn’t always make sense at first. Watching how the Snubbul moves, not pausing to sniff or listen like most normal types, but rather sending soothing energy around itself, sort of like echolocation. Bede isn’t sure exactly how it works, but neither is anyone. 

“Oh, I guess you’re right. Maybe I’ll ask him about it tonight- he mighta noticed something useful while he was here.” 

Bede frowns, turning so that he was partially facing Hop, “Didn’t you just call him and Leon yesterday?” is he supposed to be calling back more? Opal hasn’t mentioned it. He bites his bottom lip and opens his phone. Opal has always been rubbish at texting, but she can at least open up her messenger. Maybe he should ask if she wants to call more. She  _ is  _ the closest thing to a parent he really has- or any family, for that matter.

“Leon’s been really antsy lately. Kinda weird, but he asked me to call him for the first few days, just to make sure I’m alright, and, well,” Hop shrugs, “no one can really say no to Leon.”

Bede can’t argue with that. It’s weird, because that’s something people used to say about Rose. It’s different with Leon, though. You couldn’t say no to Rose because he’d make your life hell. You can’t say no to Leon because he’s so damn sweet and he always has your best interest at heart. The charming bastard.

It’s also strange reflecting back on the time where Bede hated him on principle, because he was Rose’s favorite, because he was everything Bede was not. Soon after the incident with Eternatus, he realized that Leon’s life was turbulent at best, much like his own. He’s grateful he figured that out before he said anything hurtful.

Unlike with Hop.

He wants to apologize, sometimes, but it’s not something he’s used to. He’s never been one to apologize, and, in his defense, he hasn’t  _ received  _ many apologies in his life, either. 

He approaches a different Snubbul. This one looks more eager, stepping up to him with a curious tilt to its head. Bede crouches to be at its height.

At which point the Pokemon reaches up and grabs his sunhat right off his head before running. Bede pauses for a moment, processing, before shooting to his feet. “Hey!” he shouts, tripping over a stone in his attempt to scramble after the fairy-type.

In the background, Hop snorts.

Bede shoots him a glare, carding his fingers through his fair, “I am very fair. I’m heat-sensitive, Hop. I’m going to get heatstroke, and them I’m going to die.” 

Hop is holding the Eevee in his arms as it nuzzles under his chin, which is… really sweet, actually. Bede does not say anything about that, nor will he ever. He furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose. “Can you at least help me find the Snubbul?” 

Hop shrugs, setting the Eevee down gently. The normal type chirps and nuzzles against his leg. “Nah, it’s your hat. I’m actually super busy. You know, doing my job.”

Bede bites back a rude retort- one filled with cussing, and throws his hands in the air, turning away from Hop. Whatever! He doesn’t need his help. He stomps off in the direction the Snubbul ran, pulling some oran berry treats out of his satchel as he goes.

“Here, puppy, puppy, puppy,” he whispers, taking slow, careful steps.

He remembers when he got the hat, his first Christmas with Opal. He’d celebrated a lot of different holidays over the years, none of which he had let himself be involved in. It was hard, being transferred from home to home. Celebrating holidays felt like a family thing, and family had always been temporary.

Until Opal. 

He remembers when she woke him up, shaking his shoulder at six in the morning. He’d rolled over, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“It’s Christmas, silly child. Get your bum out of bed and open your presents.”

Bede had stared at her for a moment. Presents- for him?

He hadn’t got her anything, that year. He did every time after.

He got her things for her birthday as well. And she got presents for his. It was late in his life to start having birthdays, but he was grateful to have it anyway.

He remembers how he’d furrowed his brows upon opening the box that the lavender sunhat was in, flipping it over as if that might offer an explanation.

“You were always getting sunburnt- I know it’s winter now, but it’s nice to have for later.”

The thought of losing it makes his stomach lurch, so he keeps looking. 

“Lysandre, I’m quite done dealing with Sigyliph,” a voice he doesn’t recognize echoes from around a pile of rubble. Lysandre? Bede frowns. He’s always been, in the words of one of his former foster families, a ‘nosy bastard’. He figures he may as well embrace it. He tip-toes over to the shattered pillar and risks a glance around it before ducking back.

Malva he recognizes as one of the Kalos Elite Four. He’s seen her at a league gathering or two over the years. Imposing, rude, nicer to women than she is to men. She’s one of the very few people he’s ever met that isn’t swayed by a smile from Leon. He doubts she’s even human for that. 

“They’re annoying, and they don’t like being caught, either,” Malva continues, “I don’t understand why you don’t just get grunts to do this.”

Bede’s frown deepens. Grunts? Like, lackeys? Does Lysandre have a gang of some sort? He’s heard about that happening in other regions, but it all sounded like some kid’s made-up fantasy. 

“I do not send them  _ because _ they are difficult to catch. Regardless, I am here now. Sycamore gave me a supply of quick balls and ultra balls, so those ought to help.”

Bede decides to take the opportunity and go, before he’s caught red-handed spying. He walks quickly until he’s out of earshot, then goes back to trying to find his hat. He wants to seem casual, even though every instinct in him is screaming to run back to Hop and tell him what happened. 

Sure, it might not be evil, but it sure seems suspicious. Why is he catching Sigyliph en masse? What purpose could he have for them? He’s tempted to ask Sycamore, but the thought of Lysandre finding out he was snooping doesn’t sit well for Bede.

He finds the hat not long after, abandoned on the ground, no Snubbul in sight. He sighs and picks it up, looking it over for any major damage. Luckily, it seems perfectly intact. He slips it back on his head and makes his way back to where Hop is. He’s sketching now, his legs spread out in front of him so that the Eevee he’s so easily made friends with can lounge on them. 

“Hop, I just saw the strangest thing,” he says, only to realize that Hop isn’t even doing him the honor of looking up. “Can you stop drawing for a second?”

To his credit, that does make him pause.

“Lysandre is here--”

“Like he told us he’d be.”

“Right, talking to Malva.”

“A respected member of the Elite Four, yes.”

“Okay, but listen- they were acting really suspicious, whispering about catching as many Sigilyph as possible.”

Hop lets out a long, dramatic sigh and stuffs his sketchbook back in his pack. The Eevee pricks its ears and looks up at Hop, as if asking what’s wrong. “Okay, do you want me to help you talk to them? I don’t get why you’re telling me all this, mate.”

“It’s- I just don’t trust them, Hop. I think they’re up to something.”

Hop considers him, brows furrowing, clearly conflicted about what’s going on. Bede taps his foot impatiently- one of his many bad habits. Eventually, he gives a slow nod. “Okay, I believe you.”

Bede blinks, “You do?”

Hop adjusts himself, scooping the Eevee into his arms and standing. “Yeah. I don’t like you, but I know you’ve got a good bullshit meter. So yeah, I trust you on this.” He scratches the Eevee between the ears. “But what d’ya wanna do about it?” 

Bede considers the question. Honestly, he hadn’t thought he’d get this far. Lysandre had mentioned being in the area for a few days, back at Sycamore’s, so he likely wasn’t heading out just yet. The idea of a spy mission sends a thrill through Bede, though he knows he should probably be taking this more seriously. He fishes his Rotom phone out of his back pocket and wakes it up. The Pokemon zips in front of him and waves its little lightning-bolt arms excitedly.

_ Bzzt- how can I help you, handsome? _

__ Bede flushes. Maybe he should have re-adjusted his phone settings before pulling it out in front of Hop.

“You seriously programmed your Rotom phone to call you  _ handsome _ ? Yeesh.” Hop places his hands on his hips and  _ smirks _ , like he has some embarrassing dirt on Bede (which he does).

“Shut up,” Bede mumbles, flipping through his contacts until he finds Sycamore. The man answers on the first ring, though only with audio. The trend of Rotom phones has recently made its way to Kalos, but that doesn’t mean that Sycamore is with the times, as it were. 

“Hop, is that you?” the voice crackles through the mic, followed by the sound of something crashing, and Sycamore letting out a stunningly varied litany of curses. 

“Bede,” he says.

“Shoot, must have muddled your contacts. Right, Bede, how can I help you?”

“I think Hop and I are going to book a hotel for the night. I still want to catch a Snubbul while I’m here.”

This doesn’t arouse any suspicion, not that he expected it to. Sycamore hums affirmatively, chuckling as a Pokemon makes a cooing noise in the background. “Good, good. Just give me a call when you’re on your way back then.”

The screen of his phone goes black, then flies back into his pocket.

“Right,” he says, “let’s get to snooping.”

* * *

The Eevee that Hop befriended and ultimately caught the day before turned into an Sylveon overnight. Bede has never seen such a rapid bond, but Hop’s always been good with Pokemon, and he feels like he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s hard for him not to be a bit jealous, though, when  _ he’s  _ the fairy-type expert, yet Hop’s the one running around with a Zacian and now a Sylveon. Hop notices, too, the little ass.

“You know,” he says, scratching his Sylveon between the ears, “I feel like I really, intimately, truly understand Sylveon now.”

“Mmmhm.”

“In a way even you, oh master of fairy types, perhaps, do not.”

“Do you enjoy the sound of your own voice?”

“Sure do!” Hop chirps, giggling as his Sylveon reaches up to lick his fingers. 

A deafening crack, like stone hitting stone, echoes through the ruins. Bede’s entire body tenses and he feels himself crouch low, ready to run, before logic settles in and he remembers that he’s safe. He has his Pokemon with him. He stands straight, meeting Hop’s gaze only for a moment to confirm that he has the same idea.

It’s easy to read Hop. He wears his feelings on his sleeve, so unlike his brother. Or maybe he is like his brother, and only gives the illusion of being an open book. Bede doesn’t know him well enough to say. Regardless, Hop gives him a stiff nod, and they make their way towards where the sound came from, Hop’s Sylveon leading the way with soft steps and pricked ears. 

The Sylveon peers around corners for them, low to the ground, then sends them a stiff nod if it’s okay to continue. After a minute or so of walking, she stops and takes a few paces back, fur bristling along her spine.

“Good girl, Peanut,” Hop whispers.

“Peanut?” Bede hisses. It really isn’t the time to critique Hop’s name choices, he realizes, but it’s his first time hearing it.

“Fit when she was an Eevee,” Hop explains, and he looks like he might say more, except--

“Holy shit, is that a shiny Houndour?”

“Oh, lovely- Miss Malva might actually treat us better ‘an the shit she stepped on if ‘e get ‘er that.”

A series of barks and whines follow, and Bede finds himself tensing, peering around the edge of the barricade to get a better look. A Houndour, bright blue where it’s usually black, is backed against a stone wall, tiny yips escaping it. It looks like it can’t be more than a month old, its fur still fluffed, paws too large for its body. The fact that it isn’t hidden in a den with its mother is highly unusual.

Two women corner it, dressed entirely in bright orange suits, with hair and sunglasses to match. Maybe it’s a flimsy comparison to draw, but it reeks of Lysandre to Bede. He clenches his jaw and grits his teeth, because this doesn’t seem good. What’s worse, is under the rubble of a large stone monument, Bede can just barely see a set of thin, jet-black paws. He swallows thickly. 

“We have to help,” Hop says, close to his ear, and he looks like he isn’t about to wait for an answer before dashing into danger, and Bede can hardly blame him. He wants to do the same thing. The poor Pokemon looks petrified as large, pale hands grab it firmly around its middle.

Bede grabs Hop’s wrist and pulls him back, “They did that,” he whispers, pointing to the rubble that had brought them here in the first place. “They are armed. We need backup.” 

Hop rips his arm from Bede’s grip, but to his credit, doesn’t attempt to approach them again. He takes a deep, steadying breath and nods. “We should get back. We’re gonna look damned suspicious if one of ‘em finds us now.” 

The cries of the Houndour are cut off as one of the grunts presses an ultra ball to its head, and Bede’s heart cries out.

These guys could be good trainers. Maybe they came to investigate the noise, and just happened upon the Houndour.

Maybe they want to help.

Maybe. 

Geosenge town isn’t a long walk from where they are, and in spite of the tiny nature of the town, it sports a hotel, like almost every town in this damned region seems to. It’s convenient, he supposes, but he has no idea how Kalos can support such an infrastructure. There’s no way these rooms are filled most nights. The concierge, a young woman with a tired expression, waves at them as they enter and make straight for the elevator, with Hop leading with long, determined strides, his lips pulled into a tight line. 

When they get back to their shared room, Hop grabs Bede by the shoulders and squeezes, hard. “We need to do something,” he says.

“Let go of me,” Bede hisses, rolling his shoulders to get Hop to let go, “I know. But, look, I’ve been doing research, and Lysandre may as well be Kalosian Rose. He owns half the region, including every major news outlet.”

Hop steps back, fingers tapping against his arm. “They were working with Malva,” he whispers. “We can’t risk it.”

“We can’t.” Bede echoes, falling back onto his bed, taking in the scent of freshly laundered sheets. 

Hop paces the room, nervous energy radiating off him, and his Sylveon watches him with her ears folded back and her eyes wide. Eventually, Hop stops and scoops her into his arms, placing a kiss just above her nose. 

“Syl!” the pokemon squeals, reaching up to nuzzle under Hop’s chin. 

“Right,” he sighs, “I’m gonna call Lee, so, you know.” 

“I’m not going to interrupt your brother time, Hopster.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever.” 

Bede watches out of the corner of his eye, pretending to the best of his ability to be unbothered, as Hop begins a video call with his brother. Leon is in a loose-fitting tank top, propped up against his pillows, so he’s probably in bed. Raihan isn’t there, but distantly, Bede can hear running water, so he may be showering. 

Leon launches into a long explanation of his day, which had involved a very sweet-sounding amusement park date with his husband. He laughs as he describes how Raihan was  _ too tall  _ to get on one ride, and notes that Hop would have been too, and how Raihan had pouted until Leon won him a big Gible doll. 

He talks about how Raihan had found a sobbing child and helped him get back to his mothers, how he had let the little boy ride on his shoulders, and how it was, in Leon’s words, the ‘cutest darned thing’. Bede glances over to see Leon resting his chin on his hand and looking in the direction that Bede assumes to be the bathroom with an absolutely  _ lovesick  _ look.

He snickers to himself. Seems Opal might have gotten into his brain. Only time will tell.

Speaking of Opal…

He waits for Hop to finish the call, shooting him a puzzled expression when Hop says nothing about what they saw today.

“Lee doesn’t really have much power with international junk anymore. I don’t want to stress him out over something he can’t help.”

Bede thinks that maybe he could do  _ something _ . He’s a pretty influential person, Champion or not, but Hop probably knows more than him, so he says nothing.

“I’m gonna call Opal,” he says instead, flipping through his contact list. Hop says nothing as the phone rings, rings.

“Bede?” a tired voice answers, and Bede feels his heart swell in a way he had not anticipated. He hates admitting that he missed her, but--

“Do you know what hour it is? I need my beauty sleep, child.”

“I’m sorry, Opal,” he says, ducking his head, though she can’t see it, “just wanted to update you.”

Opal is quiet for a long moment, and when she speaks again, her tone is softer. “It’s alright. Tell me what you’ve learned so far.” 

As he begins to speak, he watches Hop make his way towards the window, slide it open, and climb out, his Sylveon following close behind.  _ What in Arceus’ good name _ ? Clearing his throat, he forces himself back to his conversation with Opal, leaving out the details of the encounter he and Hop witnessed today. If Leon can’t do anything, she certainly can’t.

She sounds tired. That fact weighs on him.

* * *

When Opal hangs up, Hop still hasn’t returned. The window is open, letting cold air in, and it’s not like he can close it. Frowning, Bede makes his way over and ducks his head out. “Hey!” he calls up, “some of us want to sleep and not  _ freeze to death _ .”

No answer comes. Bede has never fancied himself an acrobat, and though the gap between the top of the window and the slanted roof isn’t massive, it makes him uneasy. Stupid lanky Hop probably had no problem. He lets out a quiet curse and hauls himself up, swaying slightly as he works his legs out the window. 

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this-”

He scrambles with his fingernails against the roughly-textured tile of the roof, his stomach doing painful summersaults all the while, but he ultimately manages to haul himself up. He lay on his stomach for a moment, focusing on stopping the trembling in his limbs, before he pushes himself onto his hands and knees and crawls towards where he can see Hop sitting on the edge of the roof, his feet dangling off the side. He can obviously see Bede from where he is, but he doesn’t acknowledge him until he’s sitting next to him.

“I hope that Houndour’s okay,” Hop whispers, running his hand through Peanut’s fur. The Sylveon has its head rested on Hop’s thigh and is dozing peacefully, her feelers reaching up to hold onto Hop’s wrist. He knows that Sylveon can sense emotion, and he wonders if she’s trying to comfort Hop.

“If they are treating the Houndour poorly, we’ll help.” Bede says, gripping the edge of the roof, as much out of frustration as to keep himself steady.

Hop looks at Bede for a long while, as if searching for something. It makes Bede uncomfortable, but he allows it nonetheless. Ultimately, his roommate says nothing, turning his attention back to scratching behind Peanut’s ears. 

It’s better than what he’s used to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit uncertain about this chapter, but hopefully you all like it - let me know if you do!
> 
> as always, I'm @chesnaughtz on twit u-u


	3. Chapter 3

The grunts who took the Houndour are gone the next day. Bede knows he should have expected that, but he’s still frustrated when he and Hop scour the entire area, only to find nothing. Hop looks on edge, and refuses to talk the entire time they’re searching which, in turn, only heightens Bede’s own anxieties about the situation. 

Around them, more Snubbul than ever seem interested in them, and on any other occasion, Bede would be ecstatic. He’s sure that Opal is expecting notes, or, preferably, a live specimen of every species not native to Galar.  _ Leon won’t say no if it’s for research _ , he recalls her saying the night before. Bede himself has never been great at convincing people, but Opal is.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without her. It’s something he doesn’t care to think about.

Among them, too, are Nosepass and yet more Houndour. The former of which he’s seen Hop take special interest in on previous days, though now he seems entirely dedicated to finding any evidence at all of whatever it was they say\w the day before. 

About an hour in, Bede rubs his temples and fishes into his pack, taking out two Pokeballs.

He didn’t bring his whole team to Kalos. Opal needed a rotating team for challengers, and they’d have more outdoor time back home, anyway. He had brought with him, however, his Hatterene and Rapidash. He’d been hoping to find some more Fairy-types while he was here, and he hoped he still got to do that amidst figuring out if Kalos had a hidden criminal underbelly. 

Spying what he was doing, Hop unhooks the three balls attached to his belt, and lets out his Sylveon, Dubwool, and Zacian.

Bringing the sword-wielding dog, Bede thinks, is sort of over-kill. He doesn’t mention it, however, fearing some tired conversation about Bede being  _ jealous  _ is all that will come of it.

And he  _ is  _ jealous, but he doesn’t want to argue with Hop about it. 

Speaking of Hop-

The taller man’s hand grasps his shoulder suddenly, and he’s about to snap an insult when his foot falls and he finds himself nearly stumbling. He scrambles back, nearly into Hop’s arms, and looks down. The drop is only a few feet, but he could have ended up with a twisted ankle. Bede flushes, hiding his face slightly by angling his hat downward.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Hop murmurs, clearly no longer focused on him, which Bede is grateful for. Maybe? 

At around noon, they’ve still found nothing, and as they settle to eat a packed lunch, Hop’s phone zips out of his bag to hover in front of him. A group of Kantonian tourists stop, pointing and whispering as the Rotom announces that its trainer has a new call waiting. 

Bede can’t imagine living somewhere without Rotom tech. Most regions don’t have as much as Galar, though he heard Johto was introducing them, so Kanto can’t be far behind.

“It’s Leon,” Hop mumbles around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Chew with your mouth closed,” Bede grumbles, though Hop pays him no mind, instead tapping the screen with a finger and smiling wide when Leon and Raihan’s faces appear on the screen.

The two of them look frazzled, but happy- like, really happy. Bede can’t help but shift closer, wanting to hear what the two men have to announce. 

“Hop! We have an announcement!” Leon says, throwing his hands in the air, his wide smile crinkling his eyes slightly. Bede turns his body away, trying to keep his snooping discreet as he inspects some markings that might be claw marks on a slab of stone nearby.

“Okay- but you know I was gonna call ya’ tonight, yeah?”

“I told him that,” Raihan starts to say, but he’s interrupted by Leon.

“But I wanted to tell you right away.” 

Hop laughs, loud and bright. He laughs with his whole body, when he means it. It’s something and Bede doesn’t see from him often, and it makes him smile a little because as much as he still feels weird and uncomfortable around Hop, his laughter is infectious. He finds himself wandering closer, giving up trying to hide that he’s listening in.

“Okay, okay, so what is it?”

Leon turns to Raihan, whose smile is softer than Leon’s, tender and sweet and almost too personal and intimate to look at for too long. Leon counts down with his fingers, and when he reaches zero, they both throw their arms wide and announce,

“We’re having a baby!”

Silence hangs over them for a moment. Bede feels something bubbling inside of him- joy? Hope? Leon looks so damned happy. He wants- hopes, that will be him someday, too. Dating has always been scary for him, because he’s trans, and traumatized, and a lot, just in general.

But maybe one day he can be like Leon and Raihan.

He isn’t sure what to say, or if he should say anything. In the meantime, Hop is standing, pacing back and forth, a series of garbled sounds coming out of his mouth that sounds a little like this:

_ Ahmn how you me augh wait but hhgggg gah OH! _

__ Before he manages to turn back and form a coherent, “How could you do this when I’m not there to hug you!” 

Both Leon and Raihan laugh at that, Raihan wrapping an arm around Leon’s shoulders to pull him close. “Sorry Hopster,” he says, “sometimes life happens even when your husband’s brother is in Kalos- but hey, we’ll keep you posted, yeah?”

Bede steps into frame then, holding his hands up awkwardly, unsure what the right thing to do with them right now is. “Um,” he begins, flushing when Leon shoots him a wide smile.

“Hey Bede!” he says, clearly not minding at all that Bede is here, which Bede should have expected, but you know, fear of rejection, and all that. “Did you hear?”

“I- I did,” Bede says, his voice low, emotionless, “congratulations. You will both be good fathers.” He means to put more emphasis, more excitement into his words, because he is excited, but like every other time, it comes out stiff, earning him a raised brow from Hop and Raihan.

Leon, for his part, doesn’t seem bothered. “Thanks- oh, and don’t tell Opal yet, okay? I wanna tell her myself- see the look on her face.”

Bede wants to see the look on her face, too, but he thinks that it’s probably Leon’s news to tell, so he says nothing. 

From there, Hop presses for more questions, which Bede feels he should remove himself from.

Who’s gonna be the godparent?  _ Hop _ .

Will they be there when he gets back?  _ Probably not. _

__ Do they know any details yet?  _ Not really, or they would have told him _ . 

Bede wanders away a bit, finding a Snubbul that will actually give him the time of day. It leans up and sniffs his hand, actually lapping up the Pokemon treats he made instead of turning up his nose. The pink dog Pokemon are known for being picky, so he feels a burst of pride when his hand-crafted food is a hit with at least one of them.

“Can you show me a play rough?” he asks, gesturing to a nearby pillar. The Snubbul nods, turns, and without hesitation, charges towards the stone. Bede clenches a fist, expecting some blowback, but as the Pokemon runs, a pink aura comes to life around it, and when it collides with the pilar, a loud crack splits through the air. He watches as small fractures split the stone, not quite enough to break it completely. The Snubbul looks up at him expectantly, so Bede offers him a few more treats for his efforts, then presents a Luxury ball.

“Come with me?” he asks, “there’s more where that came from- treats, that is”. He’s not opposed to battling the Pokemon, really, but his team is pretty strong, and it’s probably less risky to do it this way.

The Snubbul considers his offer for a moment, then presses its nose to the center of the ball.

Easy.

“Well done. Bede, was it?” A deep, smooth voice sends a wave of shock up Bede’s spine. He stands, straight-backed, and turns to see Lysandre.

“Uh, yes- thank you.”

Lysandre hums, moving past him to run long, pale fingers along the cracks in the stone the Snubbul created. “Fairy-types are strongest in the Kalos region, they say,” he murmurs, “perhaps because they originated here.”

It wasn’t technically true, or at least not confirmed. There were records of Fairy types existing in Alola and Galar as early as three thousand years ago, with no sign of them having migrated from the Kalos region, though it’s a possibility scientists entertain. Kalos has the oldest documented Fairy-types, with fossils of Florges and its pre-evolutions dating back as far as five thousand years. Lysandre’s statement is true in other regions where, for example, Kantonian Clefairy were originally pure normal types, but through breeding with specimens from Kalos, carrying the dominant Fairy-type gene, they took on the fairy typing.

So basically, there was more to it than that, but he didn’t voice any of those thoughts. He simply nodded.

“Flabebe, right? We have a lot of fossils of them.”

Lysandre removes his hand from the stone, removing a cloth from his jacket pocket to wipe dust from his fingertips. “Floette in particular, yes.” He looks at Bede, humming quietly. “They’re thought to have been a sort of right hand to Xerneas, who I am sure you are familiar with.”

And of course, he is. What sort of fairy-type trainer would he be if he wasn’t familiar? Xerneas: Kalosian god of life. As far as Bede’s aware, the mysterious Pokemon, thought to look like a blue deer of some sort, hasn’t been seen in well over a thousand years. The Kalosian Gods are reclusive, unlike the legendary birds in Kanto, or the Tapus in Alola. 

“I think I’ll head to route four next. There’s an abundance of Flabebe there, and Augustine has summoned me to dine once again, so I may as well be around- let him have his fill of me, as it were.”

_ I don’t think he’ll ever get his fill of you _ , Bede wants to say, but refrains. He’s not saying a lot of things that he would like to say today. 

“Will I see you there?” Lysandre asked, turning so that his body is facing Bede. The younger man fought not to fiddle with the hem of his think, purple, cotton sweater. 

“Possibly. We told Sycamore we’d be back soon, and we’ve both caught a Pokemon?”

“Oh?” Lysandre said, with a slowness that gave Bede the sense that he knew something was up- like a villain in a children’s movie. Man, this guy practically oozed cartoon villain energy. Bede almost wants to cringe away. 

“Yep. He caught and Eevee and I just got myself a Snubbul today.”

Lysandre looks him over, furrowing his brow when he meets Bede’s eyes, and if he were actually lying, Bede might have broken right there.

“Well, I do hope you two aren’t following me,” Lysandre says, waving a dismissive hand and casting Bede a quick smile. “I’ll be heading back towards Lumiose, then. See you.”

And he leaves, not even casting a glance back, seemingly unbothered.

Bede allows himself to watch the man’s back for a few more moments, before returning to find Hop.

* * *

Bede returns, walking fast, to where Hop is laying on his side in the grass, cooing and scratching under his Sylveon’s chin. It’s cute, if he’s being honest, how affectionate Hop is with his Pokemon. It’s hard to focus, however, when his Zacian is staring Bede down like she has something to prove. When Bede meets her gaze, the dog Pokemon looks away 

“I ran into Lysandre - we should head back to the lab. He’s gonna be heading to route four to research Flabebe.”

Hop rolls onto his back, “If you say so. I still think you might be barking up the wrong tree.”

“You’re free to not come with me.”

“Oh, no, I love a little side-quest,” Hop says, hauling himself to his feet. “So I’ll come along- so long as you stop trying to steal my brother, yeah?” he finishes the sentence off with a wink, so it’s obvious he meant it as a joke, but Bede immediately feels anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he practically hisses. Hop, to his credit, flinches, and momentarily looks like he may regret what he said.

Before evidently deciding he did nothing wrong, thank you very much.

“Nothing- you were just really friendly, is all.”

“Well I’m sorry you’re  _ so  _ threatened by the kid with no family- like I haven’t heard this shit before- I just love going around  _ stealing families _ .” The words came with unfortunate tears which he desperately tries, and fails to, hold back. 

“I didn’t - wait,” Hop says, fumbling his hands around.

“Forget it.” Bede says, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

* * *

The ride back to Lumiose is tense, to say the least. Hop sits next to him in the taxi- the  _ ground  _ taxi- with his head leaned against the glass, shooting occasional looks Bede’s way, and he notes that the other man seems to be genuinely apologetic, but Bede can’t be arsed to care, not right now. If Hop can hold onto a grudge for years, Bede can be angry for a few hours. 

So the two sit in silence, aside from the occasional coo of Bede’s Sylveon, who’s looking at Bede with the widest, bluest eyes. He sighs and leans over to scratch between its ears, careful not to look at Hop.

When they get out of the taxi, Hop takes long, purposeful strides into the lab and up the stairs. Bede follows behind at a reasonable pace, because he isn’t a fucking giant. 

When he arrives at the suite they share with the professor, the smell of baked goods hits Bede hard, almost like a physical force. He turns on his heels, intending to walk straight to the kitchen, and ends up nearly colliding with Lysandre.

Typical.

The tall, flame-haired man stares down at Bede through narrowed eyes.

“Bede,” he says, voice icy, “I thought I said that I hoped you weren’t following me.”

“I--” Bede flounders a bit, Lysandre’s gaze piercing through him, making him nervous. He’s really so much like Rose. His disappointment burns a familiar hole in his chest.

“Apologies, Lysandre- we returned in haste because I had a killer migraine, and you see, I forgot my medication here,” Hop jingles a tall, orange pill bottle. “Not really his information to tell, and I appreciate him not giving it.” It’s more formal than he’s ever heard Hop sound, but it seems to win Lysandre over. He clears his throat, mumbling a quick apology to them both, before joining Sycamore once again in the kitchen. 

“Thank you, Hop,” Bede says then, quieter, “I wasn’t aware you had migraines.”

“I don’t!” Hop replies, clearly not catching the cue that he ought to be quiet, “these are anti-depressants.”

“Oh, well. Thanks anyway.”

A pause hangs between them, heavy and awkward, and it’s clear that one of them is meant to be saying something, but Bede can’t figure out who, or what.

“Hey, about earlier,” Hop begins, only to be interrupted by a gust of perfume wafting into the hall, quickly followed by a flaming Frenchman, also known as their host. 

“I baked cookies! Lots, so many- too many. You know, when I start baking, I really can’t stop.” He prattles on, resting a hand on each of their backs and ushering them into the kitchen. “Come on, you’ve had a long ride back, and I know you’re hungry.”

It’s true, and the cookies look delicious. “Hidden passion for baking?” he asks.

“Not hidden- you just don’t know me that well,” the words sound sort of like they’re backhanded, and Bede has half a mind to apologize, but the way he says them is so chipper, so he just stands there, pondering if it’s appropriate to apologize in this scenario. 

So the group sits at Sycamore’s kitchen island, with Bede quietly observing as he chews on a  _ soft, delicious _ macadamia nut cookie, tapping his fingers lightly on the granite, while Hop leads the conversation. He explains how his Sylveon just walked right up to him and became his friend. Sycamore notes that he has a way with Pokemon, that it’s really impressive, and so Bede sees fit to mention that a similar thing happened between him and a Snubbul, which earns only an awkward chuckle.

Again, he’s not sure why, but years of failed attempts to make conversation lead him to believe that he was probably rude on accident, so he focuses back on his cookie.

The thing with social interaction is that there are rules. There’s a lot of rules, and Bede was a very diligent student in school, even the boring classes, like the ones where they taught you about how you should never have sex, and how to write a resume. They never taught about when to say what, or how to know which words were rude when. People just  _ knew _ .

Except when they didn’t, as was Bede’s experience. 

Lysandre goes on to essentially rehash what he explained to Bede earlier about his interest in the origin of fairy-types, and how he intends to research the populations of Flabebe nearby. Bede sits, wondering as he stares into a glass of milk, what an appropriate way to interject would be.

Luckily, Sycamore ultimately makes that decision for him. 

“That sounds excellent! Say, Bede, weren’t you here to research something similar? Perhaps you ought to head out that way as well. You won’t even have to rent a hotel room.”

Bede manages a smile, “That sounds great- Flabebe aren’t permitted in Galar, either, so seeing them in abundance will be interesting for my research-” he glances at Hop, “for both of us, I mean.”

Hop grins wide, “Yup! I hear there’s Skitty around there, too- I’m very interested in them! Like, why aren’t they Fairy-type?”

Bede thinks that he might answer that question, because he knows the answer. He knows that approximately half of all Skitty and Delcatty have Fairy-type  _ attributes _ \- that is to say, they can learn moves and generate a weak version of the calming aura that’s present in true Fairy-types, and there’s push to acknowledge those as Fairy-type. The problem is that those with the ability  _ Normalize  _ do not have this attribute, so the argument then becomes, should we consider breeding out the ability, and focusing on emphasizing the species potential Fairy-like attributes, or does its presence as a Normal-type offer too much to the environments it is present in?

He says none of this, however, because he has a hunch that Hop asked it as a rhetorical question. 

“Oh, by the way, boys- dear Lysandre is staying with us while he conducts this research,” Sycamore is leaning against the table, chin resting on one hand as he looks over Lysandre. “Just so you aren’t startled when you see him around.”

Hop glances over his shoulder at the attached room, which Sycamore generously calls his living room. It has a two-person couch and a side table with a lamp. There’s not even a television. Not that Bede has anything he wants to watch, but having a couch staring at an empty wall feels sort of weird.

“He’s too tall for the couch, surely. Bede, you’re short. You take the couch.”

Bede smiles, storing away a surly retort for later, when they’re out of polite company, but Sycamore waves his hand before he can offer any sort of reply. “Oh, don’t worry about that. He’ll stay with me.”

Oh. 

Oh, Bede is ever-so glad he brought earplugs. 

As realization dawns upon Hop, he frowns, then smiles even wider than before, trying to save face. “Oh, of course!” he says, shoving a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth nearly whole. Bede grins at him. Hop flips him off under the table, the git. 

Sycamore takes over the conversation again, blathering on about his dinner plans, which Hop generously pretends to be interested in- something that Bede can’t quite manage. 

Through it all, Lysandre is looking at Sycamore with something close to fondness. Bede still can’t find it in himself to trust him. 

* * *

Bede lay in his bed, scrolling through his Pokegram feed. Leon and Raihan have new battle tower outfits - they look appropriately cheesy. Nessa found a shiny Milotic at the Lake of Outrage, and even Bede has to stop to marvel at it for a while. She doesn’t mention whether or not she caught it, but in the photos, it seems quite taken with her. It would make a good addition to her Championship team.

Gordie, Piers, and Milo are hanging out more, and Bede knows from Marnie that Milo just started showing up in Spikemuth to drag him places, claiming that he needs to get out more. It’s kinda cute, seeing Piers develop from moping in their photos together, to actually, genuinely smiling. 

Hop is off to the side, in a call with his partner and reigning Champion. She’s been feeling the name Gloria lately, he heard, though most times she still feels more Victor. He hears Gloria yawn over the phone, and she and Hop whisper fond goodbyes, before the line goes dead.

“Bede,” Hop hisses. Bede frowns, not looking away from his phone.

“What?” 

“I’m… actually genuinely sorry about what I said earlier. I don’t think you’re stealing Leon, or whatever. I wasn’t thinking.”

Bede doesn’t respond for a moment. He stares at a photo of Piers in a Hammerlock cafe, not really taking anything in.

“It’s fine.” He says. It’s not- not completely, but for how much he plays up his own attitude, Bede has never been good at holding grudges. It’s easier to simply not care. 

A few moments pass, and Bede hears some light creaking in the adjacent room. Bede rolls over and fishes a set of earplugs out of his pack. He pauses, then fishes out a second. Without bothering to stand, he throws the second set at Hop.

“You might need these.”

In the future, Bede will say that this is the first time he saved Hop.

* * *

Bede has never had seasonal allergies. Maybe he’s just never been around this many damn flowers before, but Kalos seems obsessed with them. The entirety of Route 4 is filled with flowers, which is nice, or whatever, but his eyes are so teary he can’t see a damn thing. 

Hop taps him on the shoulder, a soft rattling sounding next to Bede’s ear. He takes the offered bottle of allergy medication. “Oh. Thanks.”

He takes a pill, washing it down with his lukewarm water. Nasty. 

But seriously- who needs this many flowers? They’ve even got them sectioned off by color- which, in his humble opinion, looks a tad bit tacky.

He’s been following around a Skitty, whose behavior isn’t all that different from a Purrloin, when you get down to it. The pink kitten Pokemon weaves around his legs, darts off into a bush, comes back out, mewls a little, and so on. He has yet to spot any Flabebe, which is odd, considering approximately thirty-five percent of the route is supposedly occupied by them. 

Sighing, Bede sits back for a moment to rest, scratching yet another Skitty between the ears. It purrs, leaning into the touch, before abruptly turning and bolting in the opposite direction. Bede frowns.

A huff of breath sounds next to his ear.

He lets out a rather unflattering squeak and nearly falls in an attempt to turn, coming eye-to-eye with Hop’s Zacian. The large, blue dog stares into Bede’s eyes, seemingly focused on something.

“Hello.” He says.

Zacian tilts her head, then presses her nose to his forehead.

Hop stands nearby, clipboard in hand, and nearly drops his pen when he sees this. “Aye, has Giratina gotten ahold of your mind, girl? Bede’s a right git!”

Zacian turns to Hop, letting out a low growl before settling to sit next to Bede, tilting her head high.

“Ah-ha-ha, certified  _ not  _ a git by you’re beautiful companion here,” Bede says, running his fingers through the thick fur on the back of Zacian’s neck. She lets out a low, pleased rumble in response.

Hop stares at them for a moment, then sights, turning to tuck his clipboard into his pack. He then sits down, directly across from Bede. “ _ Were  _ a git then,” he says, slowly, “why were you such a right arse to me, y’know, during our gym challenge?”

Bede pauses then, taken aback by the question. He’d sort of come to terms with the idea that Hop would never forgive him, content to stew in his grudge for the rest of eternity.

Perhaps he’d been wrong.

“Rose,” is the first word that comes out of his mouth, “that is- well, I’ve- I don’t make a habit of telling people this, you understand-”

Hop’s brows furrow, “Okay?”

“I never had a solid family. I went from foster home to foster home. Some were great. Some weren’t- but they could never keep me. So, imagine you’re me, and Chairman Rose comes up to you, makes you feel special, right?”

“Yeah- I remember ye’ wouldn’t shut up about him.”

“Right,” Bede sighs, “well, the thing is, he never cared. I was just another charity case to him, really. Bloke didn’t even remember my name. He got me to collect Wishing Stars for him, but when I got bad publicity?” he snaps his fingers, “that was it. I wanted to be acknowledged. I wanted to be special, and I wasn’t- you were. You and Gloria.”

Hop pauses for a long, long time. An unnaturally long pause that leaves a pit in Bede’s stomach. “So you were jealous?” he says.

Bede dips his head, then smiles when Zacian presses her nose to his shoulder. “Yeah, basically.”

“I don’t think we’re more special than you, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” Bede reaches up to run his hand along Zacian’s snout, “the universe seems to think otherwise.”

Here’s something about Bede: when he was training under Opal, he listened to sound bites of every Fairy-type pokemon, on loop, trying to memorize their cries. It hadn’t even been something Opal had requested- he’d just done it.

So when he hears what sounds like a Flabebe in pain, he’s on his feet in an instant, scattering whatever words Hop had been about to say to the air. He walks close to a neatly trimmed hedge. He feels Hop’s breath on the back of his neck as he edges around a corner.

There, right where he said he’d be, stands Lysandre, Malva by his side. On the ground nearby sit dozens of ultra balls. The grass and flowers around them are singed, and several more Flabebe lay scorched and barely alive at their feet. 

Behind him, Hop swallows.

“We have to tell the professor.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the delay- my motivation has been abysmal, but I am trying my best!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey all- sorry for the delay, and that the chapter's a bit short - I've been.... you know, covid depressed, like I think most people are. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the chapter - let me know if you do

Hop and Bede don’t tell the professor what they saw. Not right away. They agree that they should discuss how to deliver the information, first. 

“He looks at Lysandre the same way Leon looked at Raihan when they first became friends,” Hop says, “he’s infatuated. It’s not gonna be easy to convince him.”

And Bede can’t argue that. He doesn’t know much about love, aside from a few fleeting crushes that he’s never really told anyone about, but Hop knows a thing or two, and so Bede decides to trust him.

The two settle into bed after a long day of research and agree they’ll tackle the issue in the morning.

Bede sleeps for maybe an hour before he is awoken by the sound of screaming. 

“What you’re proposing is absolutely insane!”

“Quiet down, Augustine.” Lysandre’s dry, level voice just barely registers to Bede’s ears. Moving as quickly as he dares, the young gym leader throws his blanket off and gets out of bed. His weight causes the floors to creak under him, and he winces at the sound, though he knows objectively that Lysandre and Sycamore are too caught up in their argument to hear such a mynute sound. 

Regardless, he’s as quiet as he can manage as he approaches the bedroom door and presses his ear to it.

By the sounds of it, they must be in the kitchen or living room.

“This- this  _ idea  _ of yours would kill millions.”

“And you could be a survivor, Augustine, but you continue to act like an  _ insolent child _ .” 

Silence hangs in the air for a moment, and Bede swears that he can feel his heart beating loudly in his ears. Eventually, he hears quiet footsteps, followed by a door slamming shut.

A broken sob rings out, quiet, barely audible. Bede feels something tighten in his chest. He glances over at Hop’s bed. The taller man’s feet are dangling off the end, but in spite of that, he’s sleeping like the dead, mouth gaping open, soft snores echoing around the room. Bede sighs, his hand finding its way to the door handle. 

_ You can do this, Bede. You can be reassuring. You can be a calming presence. You can do this.  _

He turns the handle, wincing slightly at the creaking it makes when he opens it. It feels like the noise is vibrating through his very bones. He steps out into the hallway, the sound of muffled sobs leading him to the kitchen, where Sycamore sits, hands gripping his hair as he shakes with tears. 

He looks up, normally bright eyes bloodshot, and offers a watery smile. “Ah, apologies. I- I just had a spat with dear Lysandre. Nothing you have to worry about.” 

Bede swallows. He takes a seat next to Sycamore and does what he’s always seen people do on television. He reaches over, and he rubs circles against Sycamore’s back. The man lets out a sigh, but he doesn’t stop Bede, so Bede hopes that means he’s doing alright at this whole comforting business.

“He sounded angry. Are you okay?” He wants to say more. He wants to ask about the plan, and what he’s going to do to stop it. He holds it in, for now. It feels almost painful to do so, but interrogation, he’s learned, isn’t cohesive to comforting. 

Sycamore’s body shivers. He slumps against the granite of the kitchen island and sighs. “I’ll be fine,” he whispers, “he was just- he was being silly, Bede. He didn’t mean any of it.”

Bede pauses, letting the response hang between them for a few moments, hoping that Sycamore will have something to add, that he’ll just tell Bede what he needs to know on his own.

“What if he’s not.”

Sycamore stares at Bede, bright blue eyes meeting violet. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a deep frown tugs at his features. 

“Then- well, then we should probably do something.” He rasps. He turns, tapping his fingers on the granite countertop, “but it’s- it’s hard, Bede. I don’t know if I can face him.”

“Maybe we can call the police?”

A new voice sounds behind them, “And since when have the police been any good at holding rich men accountable?”

Bede and Sycamore flinch as Hop enters the room, seemingly completely awake in spite of being dead asleep only minutes ago. He stares at the two of them with an oddly familiar intensity, though Bede swears not an intensity he’s ever seen on  _ Hop _ .

“So, Augustine, where do you reckon’ he’s going next?”

* * *

As it turns out, Lysandre’s studies are bringing him back near Geosenge town. Sycamore decides not to come, and neither Bede nor Hop are about to push that issue- they don’t really need a moping middle-aged man slowing them down in… whatever it is they’re doing.

Bede isn’t used to being a hero- not like Hop.

“The population of Houndour here is already considered high-risk,” Hop hisses, tapping the end of his pen against the notepad, “if those goons were really at Lysandre’s beck and call, it certainly shows,” he pauses, as if searching for a way to phrase it politely “a lack of regard for our collective future.”

Sycamore continues to refuse to share the details of Lysandre’s plans, no matter how much Bede and Hop pry. His misplaced devotion to the other man is strong, and Bede thinks that Hop was probably right. No matter how shit Lysandre is, Sycamore’s feelings for him were, and are, real. 

What they do know is that, whatever they’re planning, people are going to be hurt, and potentially a lot of them.

Hop shoves his notepad into his pocket and begins to pace, muttering to himself. He turns to Bede with narrowed eyed, “What do you reckon the odds are that the professor was lying to us? I haven’t seen a speck of orange since we got here.”

Bede sighs. He understands Hop’s frustration intimately, but something in his gut tells him that Sycamore was being as honest as he could be. “Sycamore doesn’t strike me as a criminal mastermind.”

Hop sighs, sitting back onto a flat boulder. He lets his face fall forward into his hands and lets out a low groan. “But he is a man in love with a criminal mastermind.”

Bede stares at Hop, unsure how to answer. He’s right, but he knows that he’s right, so he doesn’t see the point in pointing it out. 

“Maybe we should stop to eat?” Bede offers softly, “I brought wraps.” 

Hop sits upright, golden eyes actually  _ gleaming _ \- “You did?”

Bede laughs, swinging his pack around to his front so that he can dig through it. He tosses a chicken wrap Hop’s way, then takes a veggie wrap for himself. “I think I got everyone’s order right.”

Hop is already practically shredding the plastic wrap in a desperate attempt to get to the food, and Bede thinks that anyone watching would think that Hop was routinely starved, in spite of having a full pancake breakfast only hours ago. He digs into the meal with a soft groan. “Bede, this is fuckin’ delightful.” he says around a mouthful of chicken and spinach. 

Bede wrinkled his nose in response, though a small grin plays at the corners of his mouth, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ya’ git.” 

_ M’not a git _ , Hop mumbles, but he does his best to keep his mouth shut while he finishes his food. Bede takes more measured bites, taking in the surroundings as the two of them eat. For a few moments, it’s silent. 

“Ye’ seem like you want me to like you,” Hop says, his voice barely audible. Bede stares at him, brain going blank. Hop’s noticed? Bede reaches down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Well, spending months with someone I dislike sounds rather unpleasant.”

“But you’ve been doing it for a while.”

And he’s called out. Bede stares at Hop, and Hop stares back, gaze unwavering as he seems to pin Bede down, demanding explanation.

“I guess it’s just my way of,” he pauses, then, under his breath, “apologizing.” He realizes, of course, that muttering the word  _ apologize  _ like it’s taboo is rather childish of him, but the fear of rejection- of Hop refusing to acknowledge his apology, boils within him.

“Y’know, I think just saying  _ I’m sorry for being an ass to you when we were fourteen _ , is a bit more practical,” Hop says, taking another large bite of his wrap. He chews slowly, eyes drawn skyward. “But for what it’s worth, I think I’m ready to forgive you.” He offers Bede an uneasy smile, “Lee says I hold onto things too much. He’s been trying to get me to forgive you for years-” Bede will have to remember to thank Leon next time he sees him, “but I didn’t wanna forgive you if you weren’t even sorry.”

Bede nods slowly, “That’s, well, that’s understandable. For what it’s worth, I truly am sorry- for most everything I did back then, really.” 

Hop finishes the last bite of his wrap and crosses his legs on the rock, watching as Bede eats more slowly. “Why were you such a git back then, anyways? Teenage hormones- oh, or did you have a crush on me?” a cheeky grin breaks the taller man’s features, and there’s no bite behind his words.

“No,” Bede rolls his eyes. “Or, well, maybe a bit the hormones thing, but mostly?” Bede hates making eye contact, but he does so now. Given that this is the second time today he’s made himself make direct eye contact, he’s a bit over it, but it feels important to meet Hop’s eyes right now. “To be honest, I think I was mostly jealous of you.” 

Hop raises a brow, which Bede should have probably anticipated, “Jealous?” he echos.

Bede doesn’t want to explain, he really doesn’t. Hop would probably accept if he declined to elaborate, too, but he also wants to be honest. He wants to lay everything out and let Hop think what he thinks - even if he doesn’t like Bede in the end, they can still understand each other. 

“I was sponsored by Rose, as you know.”

“You talked about it enough.”

“Yes, well, when Rose endorsed me, I thought I meant something to him. I thought it was going to be like Leon, where I’d be his star, and maybe I’d even be the next champion. I’ve eluded to this before, but I’ve never had much of a family- not before Opal. I thought that Rose would be a family. I thought he loved me, like he seemed to love Leon, and even Oleana- like his children, almost.”

Hop swallows, “He was worse to Leon than either of them let on.”

Bede bunches the fabric of his shirt in a fist, “I know now, but back then, all I could see was someone living the exact life I wanted to live, and Hop? You were even worse-” Hop flinches at that, but says nothing, “everyone loved you! Leon never stopped talking about you- hell, even Rose started to see you as a shining star. You had friends, and a family that loved you-”

Again, Hop opens his mouth to speak, but Bede presses on, “I know none of that is as straightforward as I thought, but I was angry- I wanted to be you. And then Zacian chose you, and the region came together to celebrate you and Vic, and even after I made my appearance at the champion tournament- I felt invisible.”

Bede finishes with a sigh, his hands letting go of his shirt and falling to his sides. Hop stares at him, mouth hanging slightly open. 

“Oh.” He says.

“Yeah,” Bede says. What else can he say? He’s basically layed out his trauma here.

“I’m really sorry, Bede. That’s awful,” Hop stands. He walks over and crouches down in front of Bede, where he rests his hands on the smaller man’s knees. “I should have tried harder, to understand you.”

Bede’s chest tightens with gratitude, but he shakes his head, “No- it wasn’t your job to see through why I was an ass. I should’ve apologized sooner.”

“Me putting in some legwork wouldn’t have hurt.”

Bede shrugs, “Or maybe you’re too nice.”

A warm smile spreads across Hop’s face, “I get that, sometimes.”

“You really prove that you can be nice and a pretentious ass at the same time,” Bede quips.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Bede wants to reply, but the sound of thumping nearby distracts him. Both Bede and Hop stand, making their way towards the sound without a word. Hop crouches so he’s about the same height as Bede, otherwise his stupid purple pinecone hair will be visible over the crumbled stones. 

“Come, now,” Lysandre’s soft voice is barely audible from where Bede stands, but it’s close enough to make him stop and grab Hop by the sleeve. His companion stutters, almost falling over, but manages to steady himself in time to shoot a glare Bede’s way. Bede shakes his head and tip-toes forward. He crouches down and peers around the next stone. 

A Ralts is struggling in Lysandre’s grip, hands flailing desperately as it lets out pained cries. Lysandre is attaching some sort of band to the creature’s neck, and the cool metal digs into its skin. To the side, a Gardevoir is crumpled, but breathing- he can tell as much from where they’re crouched. A massive Pyroar lay nearby, watching Lysandre work with an apparent lack of interest. 

Hop lunges forward, teeth clamped together, and Bede is barely able to pull him back.

“Stop. Our Pokemon are back with our bags. Get your phone out and record it.” He glances over at the Pyroar as he speaks, worried that the creature’s keen ears might pick up his words. If it does, however, the big cat shows no sign of hearing him. Hop clenches his fists, letting out a long breath through his teeth, but eventually he nods and slips his phone out of his pocket. He angles it so the top is peeking over the edge of their hiding place.

Lysandre finally lets the Ralts go, and the creature hobbles to its mother. It pauses as the Pyrorar stares it down, baring long, pointed fangs.

“Give her a scare,” Lysandre orders, “she needs to start generating energy. I’ll take care of the mother.” 

Lysandre steps over the Ralts, leaning down to prop up the head of the fainted Gardevoir. As he fishes another metal band out of his pack, Pyroar stands, hovering over the Ralts, who trembles and cries out for her mother.

“I-”

“Hop, don’t,” Bede hisses, grabbing onto Hop’s wrist once again. The taller man tears himself from his grip, however, and storms forward, phone now clutched to his side.

“Lysandre!” he cries, his voice cracking slightly in the wake of his anger. Bede ducks further into his hiding spot, cursing quietly under his breath.

Stupid, emotional, stupid, stupid, Hop!

He fishes his own phone out of his pocket and hits record. 

“Hop,” Lysandre’s voice is scarily-  _ dangerously  _ smooth. Bede nudges his phone close to the edge of the stone he’s behind and watches the recording. He can only see their legs, but he can tell that Lysandre is looming over Hop. He tilts the phone up so that the two’s faces are visible. “Is Bede with you?”

Bede’s heart stops, only to start back up as Hop replies without hesitation, “No, this is about you and me, Lysadre- what the ever-loving  _ shit  _ do you think you’re doing? First the Flabebe, then-”

“The Flabebe?” Lysandre echoes, his eyes narrowing into icy slits, “so you’ve been following me, have you?”

Hop pauses then, taking a step back, eyes flickering momentarily back to where Bede is hidden, but Lysandre doesn’t seem to notice.

Does Hop want him to help? How can he help? Panic rises in Bede’s chest as he thinks, thinks-

Their Pokemon are back with their bags, where they were eating, stuck tight in their Pokeballs. He can’t risk running, not now.

“Pyroar. Grab him.”

As the massive lion Pokemon lunges forward, Bede runs. His feet hit the dusty floor hard, pushing him forward, to the point where he’s almost falling over himself. As he runs, he sees flashes of orange out of the corners of his eyes.

His Rotom phone zips out of his hand, lightning bolt arms waving frantically as it tries to gain his attention, but Bede can’t imagine what would be important enough to answer his phone over right now.

He skids, catching himself on his hands, and grabs both his and Hop’s bag. A message begins to play over his phone, and Bede pauses as the familiar sound- a voice he heard only moments ago- meets his ears.

“ _ "Pokémon Trainers.”  _ Lysandre’s voice is cool, measured, _ “I come to you by the Holo Caster to make an important announcement. Listen well. Team Flare will revive the ultimate weapon, eliminate everyone who isn't in our group, and return the world to a beautiful, natural state. Unproductive fools are consuming our future... If nothing changes, the world will become ugly and conflicts will raze the land from end to end. I repeat. We will use the ultimate weapon and wipe the slate clean. I'm sorry, those of you who are not members of Team Flare, but this is adieu to you all." _

“He’s fucking nuts,” Bede breathes. 

As the message comes to a close, Bede’s phone buzzes again, and this time the message is from Sycamore. Breath coming quickly, Bede answers. Before he can snap at the professor, however, the man begins a frantic speech.

“Bede! Are you still in Geosenge?” on the screen, he sees Sycamore scrambling, grabbing a belt with six Pokeballs fastened to it. “I’m on my way- is Hop with you?”

“Lysandre has Hop,” Bede snaps, and he finds that tears are prickling at the corners of his eyes.

They need to stop Lysandre, of course, but what if he’s already killed Hop? What will he tell Leon? Will he hate him, for leaving his brother behind? 

And, Bede realizes, he’s scared. He’s scared of losing Hop, just when things have started to be okay between them. 

The world would be worse without him. 

“Get your ass over here,” Bede says, “but I’m not waiting for you.”

He grabs Zacian’s pokeball and lets her out. The blue dog blinks, turning to face Bede. Her head swivels, looking for her friend and trainer.

“Zacian,” Bede says, before grabbing his phone and silencing Sycamore’s voice. “You remember Rose?”

The legendary pokemon lets out a low, rumbling growl, her teeth baring and drool dribbling from the corners of her mouth.

“Hop’s captured by a guy who’s way, way worse,” Zacian’s eyes widen as Bede continues.

“And we’re going to save him.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art in this chapter was drawn by @elisenelart on twitter!

Bede doesn’t release any of his own Pokemon, nor any of Hop’s other Pokemon. Walking around with a Zacian will make enough of a target as it is, but he can’t imagine the legendary dog would appreciate being cooped up, given the circumstances. 

Bede’s entire body is buzzing with nervous energy, and he wonders, momentarily, if this is what it’s like to be a hero. A sharp shove from Zacian jolts him, reminding him that he shouldn’t make any declarations just yet- not until he’s actually saved the day.

And he will. He has to.

The sound of an explosion, so booming and rumbling that at first Bede doesn’t register it that it’s real- not until he’s buckling over, Zacian wiggling her way under him for support. Around the two of them, wild Houndour and Eevee dash past, chittering in rapid, panicked voices. Sigilyph take to the air, their angular wings flapping furiously. Bede swallows as a great shadow emerges in the distance- a massive, needle-like structure rising from what is- or maybe _was_ \- Geosenge town. 

Another nudge from Zacian pushes Bede forward. He starts off walking, his steps uncertain, but as he approaches, and more Pokemon flee around him, he breaks into a run, with Zacian easily keeping pace by his side. He can feel his Rotom Phone buzzing loudly in his pocket, no doubt Sycamore begging him to wait, but he ignores it, and his Rotom doesn’t push the issue this time. 

When Bede ducks under the crumbling stone arch leading into Geosenge town, he’s greeted by three men in orange suits- the ones that he and Hop had seen previously- or, at least, they looked like them, which wasn’t saying much, because they all looked eerily similar. 

“Back off, kid,” one of them snarled, grasping an ultra ball in a gloved hand, “Team Flare’s no longer accepting new applicants.” Bede’s gaze flicks down to Zacian, who rolls her eyes and crouches in a defensive position, teeth bared. The _Team Flare_ grunt hesitates, but throws his ball. A Scrafty bursts from the light, eyeing Zacian with a fierce determination.

Moments later, a Houndoom and a Liepard join the fray. 

“The Scrafty and Liepard are easy- go for the Houndoom first,” Bede orders, and he hears the shakiness in his own voice when he does. Zacian, for her part, offers a stiff nod. She parts her jaws, vivid white light swirling around her. The nicks in her ears and fur heal, and patches that are so scarred that fur can no longer grow heal in an instant. Finally, in a second, blinding flash, a mighty blade appears in the maw of the legendary dog.

With a growl, Zacian lunges forward, her sword growing as she rapidly approaches the rival Houndoom. The hound flinches, glancing back at its trainer, as if to ask _what the everloving fuck is this?_

“Houndoom- fire fang!” its trainer commands. The Houndoom swallows, but flames begin to lick at the sides of its muzzle, and as it parts its jaws, Zacian collides harshly with it, sending the smaller dog flying backwards. It crumples, rolling until it slams into a stone pillar. The Houndoom lets out a low whimper, then curls into a ball, all fight drained from it.

Zacian turns, a heavy growl ripping through her body, and the Scrafty and Liepard shrink back, heads bowed low and submissive.

“Let’s go,” Bede says, though he doesn’t need to. Zacian’s already bounding forward, towards a massive boulder on the far side of town, the metal door attached to it hanging slightly ajar. How long, Bede wonders, has that been there? Was it once a bunker, or is it something that Lysandre made specifically for his purposes here?

As he and Zacian reach the entrance, a cry reaches Bede’s ears. “Bede! Wait!” Sycamore’s voice is desperate, so much so that Bede actually does stop and look up. The Pokemon professor is riding astride a Charizard- small compared to some he’s seen, with smooth, soft features. The dragon lands, leaning in to nuzzle Bede as her trainer dismounts. “Thank _Xerneas_ I made it in time,” Sycamore gasps, “I’m here to help.”

“You might be able to thank Xerneas personally in a moment,” Bede says. He doesn’t have time to argue with Sycamore, to grapple with if he can do this- if he can face someone he’s clearly so infatuated with. “I hope you’re ready to fight- no matter who we find down there.”

Zacian lets out a low growl, “Try to keep up,” Bede says. Sycamore stares at him, mouth slightly agape, but when Bede turns and ducks into the hidden elevator behind the door, Sycamore follows without a word, his head bowed slightly in what Bede can only imagine is a deep sense of shame.

Part of him knows that this isn’t Sycamore’s fault- that he isn’t the first man to be tricked and used by someone he cared about, but right now, Bede is angry, and scared, and he doesn’t know if Hop is going to be okay. And if Hop _isn’t_ okay? 

He doesn’t know what he’ll do.

The elevator descends for what feels like an hour. Zacian paces in anxious circles around Bede, Sycamore, and Sycamore’s Charizard, who’s sheepishly holding her tail so that the legendary won’t step on it. Bede wants to ask if he has a Pokemon that’s less timid, but the Charizard hasn’t done anything wrong, and he doesn’t want to worsen her performance by insulting her. 

The door to the elevator opens onto a massive, empty room, at the end of which stands a stage, and atop of that, stands Lysandre.

The tall, muscular man turns, his eyes finding Sycamore, and for a moment, Bede swears he can see _something_ there, though he’s not sure what- he only knows that it’s something he’s never seen on the man before.

“You can still be saved, Augustine,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

“I don’t want to be saved,” Sycamore says, though tears prickle at his eyes, “not in the world you intend to create.”

At those words, Lysandre’s expression darkens. His body tenses. “Very well,” he says. He grasps two Pokeballs in his hands. “Then you, too, will die here.” 

He tosses the two balls into a high arc, and from them burst a Pyroar and a Gyarados. The two Pokemon turn to Bede and Sycamore, long fangs bared and muscles tense. Beside them, Charizard and Zacian tense in turn.

This really isn’t the best matchup, so it’s a good thing that Bede isn’t against using brute force. 

As Sycamore stands like a Deerling in the headlights, gaze focused on Lysandre with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, Bede grabs two more Pokeballs off his belt and sends out his Hattrene and Rapidash. 

Between them, he’s fairly sure they don’t have anything super-effective against either of these Pokemon, but hopefully, four versus two will be enough.

Lysandre seems to think the same, because he lets out a loud curse before shouting, “Malva!” and, before anyone can respond to that, he’s turning and slipping through the door behind him, and Elite Four Malva is taking his place. Her arms are crossed across her chest, a frown tugging at her lips.

“You two are really going to be a pain in the ass about this, aren’t you?” She says. 

Then, her own Houndoom and Talonflame join the fray.

It’s not a great time to be a fairy type specialist.

The Houndoom is unusual- wide eyed and uncertain, with a glistening blue coat. Bede realizes with a jolt that he recognizes it, from not so long ago.

“Do you have any water types on you?” Bede hisses. Sycamore fumbles, his mouth opening and closing.

“Enough of this, you four know what to do.”

The rival Pokemon snap into motion, dragging Bede’s attention away from the professor. “Shit- you three, think fast! And- and don’t hurt that Houndoom,” it’s desperate, confused. He honestly can’t think of any moves right now, not with the threat of death looming so close over him, closer than it’s ever been. It’s stupid, to try to save the Houndoom. He knows that. It’s going to slow them down but…

It’s what Hop would do. 

When the Darkest Day happened, Bede had been in Wyndon. Now, he was in the eye of the storm, and he wasn’t sure he was cut out for it. But he’ll have to be, for Hop, and also, probably, the entire Arc-damned world. 

Zacian moves to action first, her sword glowing, growing bigger in order to block an oncoming attack while Hatterene and Rapidash get their bearings. Malva’s Houndoom lunges forward, sinking flaming teeth into the steel of Zacian’s sword and growling in frustration when it does little. Zacian lets out a low growl and jerks her head, sending the dog Pokemon flying. It scrambles at the concrete floor, then cowers, looking afraid but unharmed. 

Within seconds, the more burly form of Lysandre’s Pyroar is taking the Houndoom’s place, and Zacian struggles under the weight of blunt claws and firm muscle. Luckily, Bede’s other Pokemon seem to have snapped to attention, as Rapidash leaps over, landing behind Pyroar. She turns and raises her head, psychic energy glowing around her horn. The Pyroar’s fangs release Zacian’s sword and he’s thrust into the air with psychic force.

Then the lion is promptly dropped when Talonflame slams into Rapidash’s side. His companion lets out a pained cry and stumbles to the right as Talonflame darts back to higher ground, out of range of their attacks. A flash of orange jets by the corner of Bede’s eye, and Charizard is chasing after the Talonflame, shooting out jets of blue flame.

It’s chaos, and Bede finds himself unable to breathe, panicked, scared.

He’s operated under pressure before, plenty of times, but world-ending pressure hits a bit different, he’s finding.

A powerful jet of water shoots past him, spraying him and soaking his hair on one side. He curses and flinches away, but he knows that he didn’t send out any Pokemon with a move like that, so-

“Blastoise, Hydro pump again!”

Sycamore’s voice is more clear and intense than he’s ever heard it as he orders his Pokemon forward, and when Bede glances over at him, he can see fire burning in his steely eyes, even as stray tears run down his cheeks. Bede allows himself to reach over and squeeze Sycamore’s hand, only for a moment, before turning back to his own Pokemon.

“Hatterene, Rapidash, Psychic!” 

It’s time to fight dirty, Bede decides. It isn’t a method that Hop would use, or approve of, and he certainly hopes Leon never finds out, because he can’t stand to even imagine the look on his face, but for the sake of getting to Hop and stopping Lysandre faster-

“Zacian, get Malva.” 

“What?” he barely hears the startled chirp from Sycamore before it’s covered up by a startled shriek from Malva as Zacian darts forward, teeth bared, and bowls her over, snapping her jaws threateningly only centimeters from the woman’s nose. Malva scrambles at the cool tile below, eyes wide and focused on the beast in front of her.

“Stop! Stop, you _fucking_ maniac, I’ll take my Pokemon back.”

Zacian steps off, a growl rumbling through her, and glares at Malva as she returns her pokeballs to her belt. The elite four member stands then, brushing dust off her pants.

“Good Arceus, go on then. It’s not going to work-”

The floor below them shudders, and a great cracking sound echoes around them.

“You’re already too late.”

The wry smile that spreads over the woman’s face earns her a bite on the ankle from Zacian, and then the dog is darting towards the staircase that Lysandre vanished into, Bede hot on her heels. He pauses at the entrance and glances back at Sycamore, who’s staring at him with wide eyes. 

Bede knows that, as much as he wants to help, he can’t face Lysandre. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Stay here and make sure she doesn’t try anything,” he orders. Sycamore hesitates for a moment, then nods.

Malva, for her part, is still busy massaging her ankle and cursing under her breath. She doesn’t really need watching, but it’s better than having Sycamore feel useless, or at fault.

He knows all too well how that feels. 

Bede brings his Pokemon back into their balls and takes the stairs down two at a time, the impact rocking through his legs as his feet slam on the concrete. Zacian is taking entire flights of stairs in a single bound, pausing only for a few seconds each time to wait for Bede. When she reaches what appears to be the bottom, she pauses, body tensing and hackles rising as she stares down an unseen opponent. Bede speeds up, nearly tumbling down the stairs in his haste, and before he can reach the bottom, Zacian leaps forward again, a guttural howl exploding from her.

Bede arrives at the bottom of the stairs moments later, breath coming out painful and labored. He’s really not used to this much running. 

At the bottom of the steps is a jail cell, guarded by two grunts and their Houndoom. In the cell is Hop, knees brought up to his chest, eyes wide as he registers what’s happening. He whispers something, but Bede’s too far away to hear it, especially when Zacian’s sword clatters on the ground. Bede whips around, getting a glimpse of Zacian being pinned down by the muscular form of the Houndoom, and then he himself is being shoved roughly to the ground.

He hisses and kicks his legs frantically, finding only open air. A grunt looms over him, one hand holding down a shoulder, while the other reaches up and grasps his neck. Bede’s eyes go wide as the grunt applies a firm pressure to his throat, and he gives up kicking in favor of clawing desperately at the offending hand.

“Pl-pl,” he tries to spit out, the sounds coming through as pathetic wheezing. 

He swallows, or tries to, then rolls his hips as much as he can, hoping that one of the Pokeballs on his belt will activate.

His vision turns spotty, but he sees a flash of light, of hope, and suddenly, he can breathe again. 

He gasps, his chest heaving painfully, and manages to pull himself up. His Rapidash is standing, eyes fiery and focused as she lifts the two grunts into the air with psychic energy, before launching them towards the concrete steps. The two of them land with a sickening crunch, and Bede tells himself not to look, don’t look-

A howl of pain tears his gaze back towards Hop and Zacian. The legendary Pokemon has teeth sinking into the back of her neck, hot flames lapping at soft blue fur as a growl rumbles through the Houndoom.

“Zacian!” Hop cries, grasping at the bars of his prison.

“Rapidash, Moonblast,” Bede orders, his voice hoarse. His Rapidash doesn’t hesitate. She summons a radiant sphere of pink-silver energy, and shoots a beam directly into the Houndoom’s side.

The dog Pokemon lets out a low whine as it’s thrown against a wall, and then crumples to the ground, tail folding between its legs as it looks at the two Pokemon threatening it. It swallows, then turns and bolts up the stairs, leaving its injured trainer behind. 

Bede lets his body relax, only for a moment, before reaching up to gently pet his Rapidash’s cheek. His Pokemon lets out a low hum, leaning into the touch, only to have her eyes fling open and her head jerk away at the sound of metal clashing against metal. 

Zacian’s sword cuts through the bars of Hop’s prison like they’re made of foam. One cut, then two, and there’s a clatter as steel falls against the concrete floor. Then, Zacian drops her sword and flings herself into Hop’s waiting arms.

Bede watches, his heart warm, as Hop wraps his arms around Zacian’s neck and buries his nose into her fur. The Legendary lets out a small, sad whine, and Hop whispers a reassurance that Bede can’t quite make out into her ear. 

Bede steps forward, and the two part, Zacian moving to nuzzle Bede’s hand, while Hop only stares at him with wide eyes.

“You came for me.”

Bede smiles, “You would have done the same for me.” He offers a hand to Hop, who takes it, and pulls him to his feet. The taller man takes a long breath. 

“Right, what can I do?”

As if to answer his question, a mighty rumble echoes through the building, sending Hop tumbling back until he hits a wall. Bede holds onto Rapidash until the tremors die.

“We need to keep moving,” Bede says.

Hop doesn’t question it- they don’t have time to. The two turn, Pokemon in tow, and run down the cool, dark hallway. 

It’s cold down here, almost icy, and as they make their way down the hall, Bede’s teeth begin to clatter.

At the end stands a massive steel door, propped slightly open, and since they have no other choice, that’s where they head, even as a feeling of fear and dread settles in among them. There’s something wrong here, and Bede knows that it isn’t just him that feels it. He can see it in Hop’s eyes, and in their Pokemon, too. 

Bede slips through the door first, and when he freezes in place, the others almost bump into him.

Before him stands something that most fairy-type specialists only dream of.

Xerneas is asleep, it appears. Their long, thin antlers stand in all directions, glowing with a mixture of pale yellow and pink light. They lay in a crater, with wires attached to their legs and sides, and before them, stands Lysandre, tall and proud. 

“It’s too late,” Lysandre says, turning to face them, “I have all the energy I need.”

Bede has a million things he wants to say. He wants to curse. He wants to ask why, how, what does he even plan on doing, if this all works?

And that’s how it’s supposed to work, right? He calls out, and Lysandre explains it all as he paces the room, looking down on them. 

It doesn’t work like that. Lysandre raises a hand, and he brings it down on a button, and again, the foundations of the building start to shake. All around Xerneas, sparks fly, and a soft cry echoes around them. It sounds pained, scared. Xerneas hasn’t been seen for hundreds of years. Legends say that they’re afraid of humans, and right now, Bede can hardly blame them.

A loud whirring echoes through the massive chamber, speeding and pitching up. Hop reaches over and locks fingers with Bede. When Bede meets his gaze, there’s tears there.

It can’t end like this.

Not when Leon and Raihan haven’t had their baby.

When Hop hasn’t said goodbye to Glo.

When Bede hasn’t said goodbye to _Opal._

The machine that Lysandre is using bursts into flames, spitting shards of plastic in the wake of the explosion. Lysandre shrinks back, eyes wide, and for the first time since Bede met him, he can see uncertainty, even fear in those cold eyes. 

Hop’s fingers slip from his as he stumbles back, but Bede’s chest tightens with the need to move.

It’s going wrong. He can see it in the way Xerneas struggles against their confines, even if they appear still to be deeply asleep. Above them, there’s a loud crack, and a slab of stone falls to the ground, sending a tremor through the concrete floor. Bede can’t take his eyes off the struggling Fairy God.

“Hop, get out of here,” Bede snaps.

“What? No way in hell, not without you,” Hop says, putting a hand on Bede’s shoulder. He shrugs it off, taking a few steps towards Xerneas, but Hop grabs his hand again.

Bede stops. He looks at their linked hands, then meets Hop’s gaze. 

“You’ve been reckless, Hop. You’ve got to play hero,” he squeezes his friend’s hand, “now it’s my turn.” He looks down at Zacian, who’s looking at him with wide, sad eyes. Bede takes a ball from his belt, and returns Rapidash.

“Zacian, get Hop out of here,” Bede says, his voice soft, even to his own ears.

“What? No!” Hop cries, but his protest is cut off when Zacian grabs the back of his shirt in her jaws and leaps up, up, and out through the newly-formed hole in the ceiling.

Lysandre is on the ground, staring up at Xerneas as more explosions destroy the hardware containing them. As the beast stirs and lets out pained cries.

“We’re going to die,” Lysandre breathes, “ _I’m_ going to die.”

Maybe he is. Bede doesn’t care- he knows Hop would, but he doesn’t. He glares down at Lysandre, only for a moment, and when his heart lurches at the fear in his eyes, Bede forces himself to remember Sycamore, and all the innocent people this man would have so gleefully killed.

Bede steps into the crater holding Xerneas. He steps up to them and reaches up to the nearest wire, hooked to a front leg. Electricity buzzes through his arm as he tugs, and tugs, and finally, it pops free.

Another explosion sounds above them, then another. The roof is crumbling, sending massive slabs of concrete down. Small stones nick Bede’s shoulders, and the electricity pulsing through his body is bordering on painful, but he doesn’t stop, not even as flames begin to lap hungrily at his feet, not when the building shakes so fiercely that he can barely stand. He unhooks one after the other.

As he works, he whispers reassurances.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m here.”

Until the last one, attached to Xerneas’ side, is freed.

Xerneas opens their eyes, and they turn to Bede, expression unreadable.

High above, the last of the ceiling collapses in on them.

* * *

Hop refuses to stop flailing, even as Zacian growls in warning. He hits the back of the legendary dog with clenched fists, tears prickling at his eyes. “We can’t leave him!” he cries. He doesn’t understand why Zacian is doing this, why she can’t save them both, why she’s letting Bede be stupid and try to help Xerneas. 

It doesn’t matter. Zacian is stronger, and she leaps up, up, until they’re skidding on a patch of grass outside of town and she’s dropping Hop.

He crumbles into a heap, frustrated sobs rocking through him. Some of the townspeople are gathered, murmuring among themselves about what’s going to happen to their home, and what Lysandre is doing, and why the ground is collapsing in on itself.

_Because Lysandre is an idiot and so is Bede and so am I-_

Another sob shakes through him, and he feels Zacian press into his side, but he flinches away. 

A crash shakes the ground under him, and the townspeople let out startled sounds. Hop looks up, watching as a pit forms in the center of the once gorgeous, history-rich village. 

“Bede was down there.” He whispers. 

Zacian stares in the direction of town, her expression level, calm. Hop, watching her, feels a glimmer of hope.

“Hop!” Sycamore emerges from a crowd of people, a Charizard flying above him, “oh thank Arceus you’re alright- Leon would have had my head,” he looks around, “where’s Bede, and--” he cuts off there, his mouth clamping shut, but Hop knows what he wants to say.

_And Lysandre_.

Wordlessly, Hop looks over to the pit again, and he hears a soft gasp escape the professor.

And then the rubble moves. 

Silence hangs over the group for a moment, and then a pillar of light shoots out from the rubble. All around him, people cover their eyes and cry out, some of them wrapping their arms tightly around trembling children. Hop, however, only squints, refusing to look away. 

The first thing he sees are horns, decorated with colorful, glowing spheres, and then an angular blue head, then a tall, blue-and-black body. Xerneas emerges from the rubble, shaking their massive head to dislodge the rubble stuck in their horns.

Atop Xerneas’ back sits Bede, dusty, his pants torn, but safe and alive.

Hop doesn’t hesitate, he launches forward, tears streaming down his cheeks, and when Bede slips off Xerneas’ back, he collides directly into him. The two tumble into the grass, Bede cussing loudly. 

Hop doesn’t hug Bede for long- he doesn’t seem to be the type to enjoy that sort of thing, but as he sits back, he keeps his hands on Bede’s shoulders. Bede smiles at him, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“You did it!” Hop cries, his voice cracking slightly, “you were a bloody idiot, but you did it!”

Behind them, as if nothing extraordinary has happened, the sun sets, shining in their eyes, bathing them both in warm light. Bede laughs, leaning slightly into Hop’s touch.

“I did-”

“We all bloody lived!”

The two of them pause then, sparing a glance over at Sycamore. He’s standing, facing the pit, as if waiting. Behind him, his Charizard rests its head on his shoulder. Hop looks back at Bede, who only shakes his head.

He needs time. Maybe a lot of it.

Xerneas, who had been letting the boys have their reunion, presses their nose to the top of Bede’s head now.

“So… are you Xerneas’... trainer?” Hop faces the legendary as he speaks, as if addressing them. It feels rude not to.

“I don’t know,” Bede replies, looking up at the deer, “am I?”

Xerneas blinks, stands up, then offers a slow nod.

“I guess you got to be the hero today,” Hop says, voice soft.

“I guess I did,” Bede stands, rubbing his hand gently along Xerneas’ snout, “I hope I never fucking do it again.” 

Hop laughs at that, genuinely laughs, his hands finding his sides as he doubles over and tears continue to fall down his face.

Everything is such a mess. 

All things considered, it’s been a pretty awful research trip so far, but as he stands there, laughing next to Bede, most everyone safe and sound, Hop thinks that he wouldn’t trade it.

When he opens his eyes, Bede is smiling at him, eyes twinkling with laughter of his own.

And maybe that in itself has made it worthwhile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, there you have it! it's a bit messy, and hell, maybe not my best work, but it was fun to write, and a good way to introduce myself to writing bede. i hope to write more of him in the future
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the ride! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I always found it to be a fun character flaw that Hop is one to hold onto grudges. It doesn't help that Bede has trouble apologizing directly
> 
> leave kudos/comment if you're enjoying yourself! you can also follow me on twitter @chesnaughtz


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